


That Arrogant Bastard

by Not_Your_Deers



Series: The Words That Bind Us [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Molly Hooper, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Your_Deers/pseuds/Not_Your_Deers
Summary: On one wrist is the name of your worst enemy, on the other is the name of your perfect match. Your nemesis and your soulmate. True love and pure hatred. But it’s impossible to tell which name is which. Some are born with the soulmate on their left wrist, and their nemesis on their right. For some it’s the other way. What could possibly go wrong with that?Disclaimer: We Do Not Own Anything You Recognise and Everything You Don't. If we did we would be the Caribbean on a private yacht not writing all inclusive Fanfics.





	That Arrogant Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> *Warnings: Minor Violence (Not Graphic)*

Molly Hooper thought soulmates were… romantic, though a little impractical. She was enchanted by the idea that she had a true love out there somewhere. She was less pleased by the idea of having a worst enemy too. And that she didn’t know which was which. All she could say for sure was that her soulmate definitely had impeccable handwriting.

_**William Sherlock Scott Holmes** _

_**Jim Moriarty** _

She often pondered how her name would sound if she were to marry one of the two men whose names were written on her wrists. Molly eventually decided, after six years of deliberating (from the ages of seven until thirteen) that Molly Moriarty had a far nicer ring to it. 

Her thoughts were purely theoretical, however, until she was twenty seven, when she met a handsome but eccentric man by the name of Sherlock Holmes. It wasn’t quite the name on her left arm, but it was certainly close, and she doubted there were many Sherlocks in the world. It was harder to think about the two names after that. Molly had always been more comfortable in her thoughts than in reality.

Jim entered her life four years later, just after her thirty first birthday. And she was sure, as soon as she met him, that he was her soulmate. Sherlock was smart, and handsome, and Molly was certainly infatuated with him, but there was something special about Jim. He was kind, and sweet, and funny, and he seemed made for her.

It didn’t matter that Sherlock said he was gay. It clearly wasn’t true.

And then the pool happened. And Molly’s life was ripped apart. There was no way Jim was her soulmate after that. She probably couldn’t call him “Jim”, either, but it was a hard habit to break. It crossed her mind that maybe a mistake had been made, because while the serial killer was definitely not her soulmate, the heartless manipulative bastard wasn’t a much better option.

So she moves on. More so after Sherlock really sees her for once, and then he leaves. Molly’s faster than John, though she suspects she loves him just as much. She meets Tom, and he’s sweet (not as sweet as Jim) and smart (not as smart as Sherlock), and he doesn’t mind the names on her wrists. The last is the only one that really matters. And if his curly hair reminds her of someone, it’s just a coincidence. Probably.

Sherlock comes back, though, after a while. And she’s glad, because it could be worse. At least she knew he was alive, unlike John, and she didn’t know what he’d been doing, unlike Mycroft. She and Mycroft are friends, now, after a rough start. Molly stabbed him with her keys when they met, if we’re being honest. 

She’s different now, less willing to put up with him. He seems to have changed too, though that could just be because she knows him better. He’s kinder and braver and more caring. Molly likes this new version of Sherlock, she thinks.

She wonders if he even has names on his arms, and if he does, does he feel the way she does? It’s only after she thinks this that she realises just how she feels. She loves him. Even now. More, really. Maybe sociopaths really are her type. Or maybe he isn’t half as horrible as he thinks.

It’s the wedding that makes her realise just how deeply in love with him she is. His speech makes her cry, and laugh, and certainly it isn’t the words of a man without feeling. Tom seems upset too, which is perhaps more impressive, though there’s a chance it wasn’t the speech that caused it. Molly did stab him with a fork.

Tom leaves, and she’s sure that it was the fork. The way she couldn’t keep Sherlock out of her mind (and their conversation) probably didn’t help the relationship much either. And then Sherlock shows up high, so she slaps him. Molly slaps Sherlock Holmes. And then she decides she needs to stop hurting all the attractive guys in her life. She’s glad he noticed the lack of the ring, though.

Molly’s happy beyond belief when little Rosie (Rosamund Mary) Watson is born, and she’s made the godmother. She isn’t going to dwell on the idea that the godmother and godfather - in this case Sherlock - are often dating or married. She isn’t going to let him ruin the event by texting, either.

She regrets a lot of things when she shows up at John’s therapist with an ambulance to find William Sherlock Scott Holmes, the most idiotic genius alive, high out of his mind. Mostly, she regrets not being there for him and stopping this sooner. It would be lying to say she didn’t regret her feelings a little too, and that she’d bothered for this bastard.

When Sherlock calls, Molly almost doesn’t answer (she’s tired of his nonsense), but it’s Sherlock, he never calls, so she knows it must be important. Plus, she’s his soulmate, which has to count for something.

She wished she hadn’t picked up as soon as he starts speaking. Sherlock’s having one of his bad days. She can hear it in his voice, and he’s always more tightly wound on bad days. She’d rather not get yelled at today. And then he asks. He wants her to say “I Love You”. He must be kidding with her. He can’t possibly want her, Molly Hooper, the woman that’s been in love with him practically since day one, to say those words. But he insists its real.

Molly makes him say it first. She doesn’t know why at the time. Maybe it’s instinct, maybe it’s hope this will somehow confirm that her name is on his wrist, but she does it. It takes him a while, and she’s worried. This seems urgent. What if he just won’t say it? And then he does. And she can hear sincerity, clear as day, in Sherlock Holmes’ voice. So she tells him.

I Love You.

They don’t talk for a while after that. She’s anxious, and he’s terrified. But they’re soulmates, and friends, and they can’t stay apart for long. They’re reunited, though she kind of wishes it wasn’t at two in the morning. He knocks on her door, strides into the room, and… says nothing.

He can’t speak. The words aren’t forming. So, Molly being Molly, she takes matters into her own hands, by pulling up the sleeve of her favorite old red jumper, and showing him what’s written there.

_**William Sherlock Scott Holmes** _

His eyes widen, and he laughs. He pulls up his own sleeve (the left one, she notes), and Molly is suddenly afraid, and relieved at the same.

_**Molly Hooper** _

She laughs too then, and soon they’re both laughing. About the improbability of two soulmates working together, about his ridiculously ordinary name, about everything that’s happening to the two of them. About how madly and completely they’ve fallen for each other. Soulmates or not, they’re a perfect match, and it’s never been more clear.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> \- The Slytherin


End file.
